


Bruises

by gategirl7



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gategirl7/pseuds/gategirl7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey can't seem to settle down after Bennett and decides to visit Chuck. Little bit of h/c for both.</p><p>Preslash after Chuck vs Sensei</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Chuck and am not making any money off this work of fiction.
> 
> Also posted on FFnet and LJ with same title and same author name.

Casey silently slipped into Chuck’s room through the open window.  Light from the courtyard filtered in and combined with the computer monitor glow to illuminate the space to John’s dark-adjusted eyes.  The lanky nerd was sprawled across his bed on his stomach, arms splayed and face mashed into a pillow.  Casey silently made his way across the room towards the side of the bed away from the bedroom door.  He stopped at the head of the bed and stared down at Chuck, who was drooling on his pillow and softly snoring.  The other man’s face was tilted towards John and his right hand rested at the edge of the bed.

John had no idea why he was here, in Chuck’s room.  The day had been an emotional rollercoaster for him.  Finding out his former sensei had gone rogue and dealing with Walker and Beckman had been annoying.  Trying to fend off Chuck and his ‘let’s talk and hug it out attitude’ had been downright exhausting.  Casey hadn’t been joking when he told the nerd that looking at Chuck made him upset. 

John might have been exaggerating about the killing part.  Maybe. 

Sometimes he still thought offing Chuck would be a great solution to his personal problems.  If it wasn’t for the fact that there was no other viable Intersect, Casey probably would have relieved himself of the troublesome man long ago.

No matter how hard John tried, he just couldn’t keep Chuck away.  The nerd was like a force of nature, always trying to push his way into Casey’s life as more than just a mission.  And Casey was getting worn down.   

Trying to shake his worrying thoughts, John refocused on the man sprawled on the bed.  His eyes traced over Chuck’s face and over to his arm before stopping at the other man’s wrist.  Casey knelt down to get a closer look.  There was a cuff shaped bruise around Chuck’s wrist.  John blew out a soft breath and brought up a finger to lightly trace the dark ring.  He hadn’t meant to hurt the kid.  When he had cuffed Chuck to the counter bar his main thought had been to keep the nerd out of everything.  Granted, a lot of his focus was on getting revenge on Bennett at the time, but he never really wanted to hurt Chuck.

Chuck’s soft breathing was the only sound in the room as Casey continued to stare at Chuck’s wrist.  His gentle glide over the other man’s bruised skin was halted by a half asleep murmur.

“It doesn’t really hurt.”

Casey shifted his gaze up to find Chuck, eyes half open, staring at John’s finger on his skin. 

“You shouldn’t have pulled so hard.  I left you there for a reason,” Casey gruffly whispered.  His gaze stayed on Chuck’s face as his finger went back to tracing soothing lines over the bruise.

“You would be dead if I hadn’t.”

There was no gloating or glee in the nerd’s voice, just a statement of the facts.  Casey refocused on Chuck’s wrist and let the silence grow.  He didn’t want to ruin the mood by snarling that he could have handled everything. 

Because he could have.  Really. 

And thanking Chuck again was out of the question.  The kid was lucky John had done it the first time.

After a few minutes of quiet Casey stopped tracing the bruise and gently turned Chuck’s hand over.  The dark line continued on the underside of the other man’s wrist completing the bracelet of bruising.  John blew out another soft breath and started running his finger over the revealed line.  At that, Chuck twitched and gasped, “Tickles.”

Casey didn’t reply, but he pressed his finger down a bit more so the touch wasn’t so soft.  Chuck settled again and John couldn’t resist shifting his eyes back to Chuck’s face.  The other man was still completely sprawled out and relaxed.  He was peering at Casey’s face through heavy eyes, gaze roaming over John’s features as if searching for the reason the agent was in his bedroom stroking his wrist.

Casey didn’t know what Chuck would find.  He himself didn’t really understand why he was here.  The nerd had a unique effect on him.  Chuck had ways to push Casey’s buttons and get under his skin that no one else John knew could do.  And it wasn’t always the kill/maim button like Chuck thought.  A lot of times the other man brought out a very protective side in Casey, one that he covered up with bravado and quips, because he couldn’t ruin his badass reputation. 

And he was a badass.  Really.

And earlier tonight, the Chuck effect had struck again.  The panicked babbling of the nerd had broken through Casey’s sense of defeat and desperation to protect his asset and partner.  And when John had actually focused on what Chuck was saying, well, that went straight to the kill/maim switch.  Only the frenzied direction from Chuck to turn his rage elsewhere had saved the nerd from pain and potential death.  And saved the team. 

So maybe he hadn’t had it _all_ under control, but Casey would have figured something out.  Seriously.

His thoughts were interrupted by a murmur from Chuck, “Casey.”

He refocused on Chuck and processed the tone of the other man’s voice.  Part question and part statement.  Casey knew he had to do something before the nerd woke up more and ruined the peace with another attempt to make John talk about his feelings.  The agent had finally started to wind down, the horrible day falling away as he focused on the quiet room and soothing tracing motion of his finger.  Chuck’s solid presence nearby was somehow helping the whirlwind of Casey’s mind calm and John didn’t want to loose that.

“Just shut up, Chuck.”  His voice was quiet but authoritative, letting Chuck know he wasn’t in the mood for the usual barrage of words that tended to happen whenever the nerd opened his mouth.

He abruptly took his finger off Chuck’s wrist and stood up.  This movement sparked the start of a quiet protest from the man on the bed that died down when he saw John removing his shirt and shoes, leaving Casey in his black sleep pants.

Before Chuck could process what was happening, Casey pulled down the covers and slipped into bed behind the other man.  He nudged Chuck’s limbs over and scooted up behind the nerd, laying on his left side.  Chuck attempted to turn over with a muffled question on his lips, but John quickly wrapped an arm around him and tugged Chuck onto his side and into the curve of his body.  He reached down for the sheets and yanked them back up.  The maneuver left the two spooned together, Chuck’s back against John’s front, Casey’s arm wrapped around Chuck’s waist, and their legs tangled together.

“Go back to sleep, Chuck,” he ordered.  He felt the other man start to say something, but Casey squeezed the arm around Chuck’s waist to cut him off.  “Don’t talk. Sleep.”

Chuck stayed still and stiff, seeming to contemplate saying something despite Casey’s orders, but relaxed after a minute.  Obviously, the nerd had decided to go with the flow and leave the questions for later.  He briefly squirmed in Casey’s embrace to resituate himself and then seemed to melt back into John’s chest.

“Goodnight, Casey.”

John didn’t reply, but briefly tightened the arm slung over Chuck to acknowledge the sentiment.  Casey listened as Chuck’s breathing grew deeper and regular and the other man went boneless in his embrace.  Silence, punctuated by soft snores from Chuck, filled the room again.  Casey matched his breaths to Chuck’s and started to relax.  Being here, in Chuck’s room and bed, curling around his sleeping form, was what let Casey finally let go of the day.  The residual tension from his fight with Bennett drained from his tired muscles at last and drew Casey towards sleep.

Yes, there was something about Chuck Bartowski and the effect he had on John Casey.  John still hadn’t figured it out, but this seemed to be a good start.  As sleep finally won the battle, Chuck’s voice drifted through his memory.

_“You love me, John Casey.”_

That was ridiculous.  He didn’t love Chuck Bartowski. 

He didn’t. 

Really. 


End file.
